


Cuddle Pile

by strawberry_cider



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddle Pile, Cuddling, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory, Sensual Play, Short One Shot, it gets sexy but no actual sex happens, it's what he deserves, jon gets drowned in love and kisses, lots of kisses, spelling mistakes to be corrected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22346446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_cider/pseuds/strawberry_cider
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Michael "Mike" Crew/Jonathan Sims, Michael/Jonathan Sims, Oliver Banks/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 28
Kudos: 208





	Cuddle Pile

Jon's arms were going numb. His right arm was held by Martin over Martin's neck and hair, and his left arm was twisted so Gerry could put his cheek in his palm. Michael lay under Jon, arms wrapped around his torso, chin atop Jon's head. Michael was _not_ comfortable. Too many bumps and unnatural edges, too harsh on Jon's spine, but he refused to let him go, so that was Jon's life for the time being. He probably couldn't get out even if he wanted to, as Mike was lying on top of him, using his stomach as a pillow, Jon's right leg trapped between his own, and Oliver draped a leg over Jon's left one, while the pillow he came up with were Gerry's thighs.

Other than the numbness and the occasional needles, it wasn't the worst. It was nice to be all together and be at peace, without the usual threats of death. Jon wouldn't admit it out loud without dying of embarrassment, but it was really nice to be held, to be very close to someone. It was very cosy in the room, in the bed, despite being crowded. They just lay together, tangled, idly chatting about nothing. No rush, no worry. The room got quiet because Gerry fell asleep and the others lowered their voices as to not bother him. Except for their mumbles, their quiet laughs and the sounds of muffled traffic outside, the house was silent. The ceiling fan was lazily going round and round. At one point it started going the other way and when he noticed it, he felt Michael laugh at his own little joke. Jon listened to the others talk, noticed how each voice scratched when they whispered, felt Michael's heartbeat on his back and Gerry's war, breath on his hand. It was very nice. Jon realised he had been gently smiling and laughed at himself. Oh, if only it could always be like this. No rituals, no monsters, just cuddling.

Gerry's breath hitched and Jon turned his head towards him. Whatever Gerry had been dreaming, it was over and he stirred awake. He opened his eyes to see Jon's. Jon realised how close their faces actually were, almost nose to nose, and before he could react, Gerry leaned forward and kissed him. Jon just suddenly felt soft lips against his own and the tip of a nose against his cheek. Gerry pulled away with a tiny pop, eyes still sleepy and unfocused.

“Wh-What was that?” Jon said, trying not to freak out, feeling his face burn.

“Sorry,” Gerry said, smiling and lying his head back in his palm, “couldn't resist.”

Jon opened his mouth and closed it back again, his heart racing. It wasn't that he didn't want to be kissed or didn't like it, but it happened so suddenly (and from Gerry, holy shit) that his mind was yet to catch up. Michael dragged a long finger over his chest, surely feeling the change in his heartbeat, and Jon only blushed harder.

“What's wrong, Martin?” Oliver asked, already knowing the answer.

Jon turned to face Martin and saw he was blushing too.

“You're not jealous, are you?” Gerry asked, stifling a yawn.

“No!” Martin said, momentarily losing his ability to lie.

“Don't worry, I'm not stealing him all for myself.” Gerry said. “We can share.”

Jon and Martin looked at one-another for a moment before sharing a kiss of their own. Jon felt his chest flutter when Martin placed a hand on his cheek, as if to hide him from everyone else. Martin is so precious sometimes.

“I want a kiss too.” Mike said, matter-of-factly.

Oliver leaned over and kissed his cheek. “There you go.”

“Thanks, but I want one from Jon.” He said, getting up. Jon kissed Martin and Gerry, Mike wants one too. The hell.

Mike straddled Jon's leg and leaned over him, kissing him fully on the lips. Jon leaned into it, tilting his chin up to reach back. Mike's hands were on his chest and Jon unconsciously inhaled more sharply through his nose, moving his fingers through Martin and Gerry's hair.

Both sighed when they parted and by the time Jon felt something sharp on his jaw, he was already pulled into a kiss with Michael. The shift in position of his cramped neck made him gasp into his mouth, but Michael's hand kept him in place. Jon could feel Michael smile at that. He could feel sharp teeth behind his lips and it made goosebumps appear all over. Such a fact probably shouldn't excite him as much as it did.

Michael let him go and Jon tried not to make it obvious he was gasping for air. There was a pause for a moment, then everyone glanced towards Oliver.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Do... Do you want a kiss too?”

“Sure! If you insist!” He said, laughing as he got up. He cupped Jon's face with his hands and kissed him chastely. Jon tried and failed to hold back a smile of his own. His skin was cold, but not unpleasantly so. It felt good on his blushing skin.

Oliver let him go and resumed his spot. Jon sighed and leaned his head back. His smile faltered a little. He was a little sad that it was over. It felt far too short. His chest still felt warm and affectionate.

“Why are you sad, Archivist?” Michael asked, startling him from his thoughts.

“Oh, uh, nothing. I'm not sad.”

“You are lying.”

“I'm not!”

“Did you want more, is that why you're sad?” Gerry asked, a hand on Jon's chest.

“I...maybe...”

“Then just ask, dummy.” He said and got up on his elbows and kissed him, a slender hand sliding behind his neck and into his hair. Jon groaned in protest he didn't genuinely feel and closed his eyes. Gerry's tongue touched his lips as they made out and Jon let it in, only to abandon him a moment later.

“Martin will get jealous again if I hold you too much.” Gerry chuckled. Jon saw a hand jab at Gerry's shoulder.

Jon, Michael, Martin and Gerry remained mostly in the same place, while Mike and Oliver shifted so to be higher up the bed, with better access. They took turns kissing him, lavishing his mouth, and Jon greedily allowed it. His face was a lovely shade of pink and his eyes grew glassy, as if he was getting drunk. Jon felt wonderful flutters in his chest and the sweetest ache in his throat, he couldn't get enough of those feelings. Each kiss made them stronger, like waves coming to and fro on a beach. His mouth was red and wet, but it didn't matter, it was worth it.

Martin seized his lips for a little longer than the rest (not that he minded), until Michael, with a playfully scolding tone, wrenched Jon away so he were the one kissing him. Martin, caught off guard, his head fell forward and planted a kiss on Jon's neck. Jon jumped and whined into Michael. That moment sealed his fate.

Jon felt hands and mouths on every part of him, every second. While someone would feverishly kiss his mouth, someone else would kiss and suck bruises on his neck and collarbone, another would roll up his sleeves and cover his hands and arms, another kissed his stomach and hipbones. At one point Mike lifted up his shirt, exposing his belly and ribs and many scars. Mike said “Damn, you look like a punch-bag”, then proceeded to kiss the dents left by the, ahem, anchors Jon planned to use, hands snaking beneath him and feeling up his back. Hands caressed him all over, he wasn't even sure whose they were. They'd pet his hair and scratch his scalp, hold his neck and a thumb would stroke his tendons, stroke his cheeks and played with his ears as they ate him up, stroke his chest, grab his pectorals like they were breasts, trace his ribs, trace his belly to make his shudder, knead his arms and thighs. He knew Oliver's were colder, but they warmed up touching him. Michael's were unmistakable and he was the meanest of all. His fingers scared Jon. He kept thinking they would cut him up when they teased the underside of his chin, his sides, his lower stomach, the inside of his thighs even through pants. They left pink lines in their wake and they made him shiver so hard. Jon would hold his arms up and back, hold onto Michael's hair for dear life. Michael would laugh at him, warm and wet breath right against his ear. Martin would take mercy on Jon and kiss him softer and sweeter, both on his mouth and the rest of his face. He loved kissing Jon's neck, though. He'd bury his face in the crook of his neck and Jon would gladly make him more space, biting his lip. Mike had no mercy. He kissed and bit and mouthed a spot until it was neatly marked. He smiled, mouth still on him, if he got a hiss or a gasp from Jon. Oliver preferred touching Jon to kissing him. His hands were so smooth and firm, exploring Jon's skinny and angular body, seeing what made him move away because it was too much, making him writhe while someone took hold of his lips, spreading his legs just so to watch him turn cherry-red. God, those guys were so mean. Gerry wasn't, per se, but once he got hold of Jon's mouth, he wouldn't let him go until he was out of breath and squirming under him. Not that Jon minded at all. His tongue drove him mad and Gerry revelled in it.

Jon felt delirious just from their kisses and touches, he didn't dare imagine what more would have been like, he already couldn't think straight. God, it felt like Heaven.

He wasn't sure when it was over. At some point he noticed he could breathe unobstructed, he wasn't sure when. Everybody was back to comfortably lying around and over him, a little more red in the face. Jon was allowed to calm down, return to Earth with deep breaths. It was overwhelming but he was already missing it.

“Hey, Jon.” Oliver said.

“Yes?” Jon said, groggy.

“Who's the best kisser out of us?” He smiled as everyone immediately looked at Jon, waiting for the answer.

God damn it, how is he supposed to chose?


End file.
